


The Long Way Up

by Azamir



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Boarding School, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Gen, Growing Up, Pre-Series, Puberty, Teenagers, Young!Victor, sport injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-24 18:47:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10747656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azamir/pseuds/Azamir
Summary: Viktor came to St Petersburg at age 12, entering a sport boarding school. This fic follows him as he arrives there, and on the way to his success. The long way it took him, and how much work it was to make his fabulous jumps look just that effortless.(I apologize for any miscalculation with the timeline. I studied law because I'm too dumb to do any kind of numbers. I just had to get my Viktor headcanon out there: Of a sweet young boy who just loves to skate - and was so determind to become better that he eventually ended up at the top of the figure skating world! <3)





	1. Chapter 1

Viktor stepped out of the gate area and scanned the crowd outside. There were countless people with signs, some in Russian, some in western writing. But no sign read Viktor Nikiforov or V. Nikiforov or just Viktor.  
Someone from the training center was supposed to pick him up. He didn't think he would find his way there alone, though he had 600 rubel on him and had been there once before. But that was three months ago, with his mother – who had navigated St. Petersburg for her son. Besides the first glimpse at the training center and a trip to the Eremitage he hadn't really seen much of St Petersburg.  
Suddenly, he heard his name being called out. „Viktor! Viktor Sergejevich Nikiforov! Over here!“  
A somewhat stocky man in his fifties was waving, and Viktor recognised him as one of the coaches from the training center. Viktor grabbed the handle of his trolley, pulling the luggage behind him, and moved over to the man who had come to pick him up. 

The man greeted him, introducing himself als Yakov Feltsmann, then clapped a hand on Viktor's shoulder and led him out of the terminal building. Just outside, the taxi drivers were obtruseively offering their services, but coach Felzmann waved them away, leading Viktor to the parking lot and an old Lada. The coach put Viktor's luggage in the trunk, and told Viktor to sit in the front. 

When they were driving out of the parking lot of the airport, the coach started to talk to Viktor  
„So, good to see you here, Viktor! How was the flight?“  
„Okay. The food was pretty nice, and the stewardess was very kind to me.“  
„That's good! So, I'll get you to the dormitory, there you can move into your room. The matron of the dormitory will tell you all about the rules, and tomorrow you will get your schedule. Any questions?“  
„Uhm... no, I don't think so.“

Viktor mostly stared out of the window during the drive through the city. The streets were huge, the traffic chaotic and there were just so many cars and so many people. He'd grown up in a city, but this was so much more – St Petersburg was something different. There were a lot more nice houses, and everything seemed just more, and bigger.

After about half an hour, in which coach Feltsmann mostly cursed at the traffic and yelled at other drivers, they arrived at a barrier, where the coach had to show a permit to a guard, and then they were let in. He parked the car in front of several new-looking houses. Behind the buildings Viktor could catch a glimpse of the Ice stadium where he'd been three months previously to get an idea of what would await him if he came to this training center. 

Viktor's luggage was taken out of the car, then coach Feltsmann led Viktor to one of the houses, the front door was open, and the coach knocked at one door a little down the hall. 

A woman in her forties opened. „Natasha, I brought Viktor, picked him up at the airport.“, coach Feltsmann said to her just as she looked out. When her gaze fell on Viktor, he gave a shy nod in acknowledgment. 

„I'll take him from here, Yakov. Thank you for collecting him.“  
Then coach Feltsmann was gone and Viktor stood in front of the woman.  
„I am Natalia Borisovna Korlova, I am the matron of this dormitory. I'll show you to your room. Viktor Nikiforov, wasn't it?“  
„Yes, ma'am.“  
„Come along, then. This is the community room, and this is the lunchroom.“ She gestured to some of the doors while they were passing along the corridor. „The meal timetable is up in your room, you are expected to be on time for the meals. Your roommate arrived two days earlier, he will be able to help you around.“

They were going up the stairs, Viktor lugging his too-big suitcase awkwardly up along. Miss Korlova didn't offer any help. 

„So, your room is here on the second floor. This is the boys' dormitory, no girls are allowed beyond the ground floor. The bathrooms are at that end of the corridor, there is a sink and toilet in every room. The rooms are to be kept in order, this will be inspected regularly.“

Just a few steps down the corridor, she stopped in front of the door with the number 215. „This is your room. Kiril Iljich Terpov is your roomate, he's currently in training. There is a list of house rules in the room, I expect you to read it and follow the rules.“

Viktor had just tagged along, nodding to her words and admiring the new bulding. Everything was pretty and modern, that's what it must be like to live in a city like St Petersburg. Amazing. 

He stepped forwards and opened the door to the room. „Thank you, Miss Korlova.“, he said to her. She nooded, then turned on her heeld and was gone down the corridor. 

Through the door was a room that was about as big as the living room in Viktor's parents' flat, with two sets of furniture on each side. On one side there was a door that probably lead to the toilet. There was a window that actually showed a view of the Ice stadium. 

Viktor closed the door behind him and sat down on the obviously unoccupied bed. So... this was his room. For the next year at least. He wondered what his roommate was like. Would they get along? Maybe even become friends? 

He didn't leave all that many friends behind when he came here. He'd spent so much time at the rink, training, that most of the people from school had had no interest in him. And the other kids at the rink were more often than not jealous of Viktor, who could do things at twelve they hadn't managed at fifteen, and probably never would. 

Sure, there had been some of the girls, but Viktor was looking forwards to meet the best of the best here in St Petersburg. Only those who had real potential were invited to this training center, and he had made the cut. 

He started unpacking, putting his clothes in the wardrobe and his toothbrush into the bathroom. Then he took out his skates, setting them down on the bed for now. 

On the door he discovered the meal timetable, which told him dinner would be at 19:30, and breakfast at 7:00. Lunch was at 13:00. Today's dinner was beef and vegetables. 

After having unpacked all his things – he probably would have to tell his mother to send him some more clothes, especially once winter came.

He looked up when the door opened and a boy about his own age came in. He was a little aller than Viktor, and had dark hair. 

„Oh, hi, you must be the roommate! I'm Kiril!“, the other boy greeted Viktor casually.  
„Hallo, I'm Viktor Sergejevich Nikiforov. Nice to meet you!“

The other boy nodded, then went over to his wardrobe and put his skates away.  
„So, you're also in the figure skating class, right? Some of the boys down the hall are speed skaters.“  
„Yes, I'm a figure skater.“, Viktor answered.  
„Cool! There's far too few boys in the classes, and sooo many girls! They are so annoying!“  
Viktor made a noncomittal sound at that. He didn't find most of the figure skating girls from his home to be annoying, but he didn't know the girls here yet. 

„So... I guess I'll show you around, yes? I haven't seen it all for myself, yet, but I can show you around the place, where our training rinks and dressrooms are, and so on.“

„That would be great! Are we allowed to skate on our own?“  
„Theoretically we are, but most of the rinks are constantly occupied, so there's little time to skate outside of your training times. But watching the older skaters is awesome!“

So Kiril showed Viktor the grounds of the training center. There were several rinks in the Ice Stadium, and there was a huge timetable at the entrance to show which rink was occupied by whom at which time. Nearly all the time slots were full, so there really was little in the way of free skating. Viktor would have loved to get on the ice right now, but he would have to wait until his training. Probably tomorrow.

He hoped it would be tomorrow. 

Kiril showed him around the rest of the compound as well, the whole block was surrounded by a fence, and he told Viktor they were not allowed out without a family member or another guardian. Or a permit.

Viktor was not used to that, but then – St Petersburg probably was more dangerous than his hometown of Tula. Most of the recent terror attacks had targeted Moscow, but who could say that St Petersburg wouldn't be next? Besides, he would just get lost, he had everything he needed in here – his bed, food, the common room and the school library, and of course the ice rink. 

After returning to their room, it was almost time for dinner. They went together, meeting some other boys on the way down, whom they both didn't know. 

The food was nothing special, and they sat down with two boys whom Kiril already knew. They were older than Viktor, thirteen and fourteen, and had beend in the training center for years. One of them was a pair skater, the other was a figure skater like Kiril and Viktor. 

Viktor asked about the training schedules and rink use again, but the older students told him that he'd get his schedule tomorrow, when he met his trainer. 

Then they talked about what they had done in their summer holidays. The oldest, Vitali, told of a trip to Germany with his parents, Kiril and Mikhail told of time spent at their family Dacha. Viktor didn't have much to add, he'd spent a lot of time training, and the rest preparing for his trip here. His mother had bought new clothes for him, and with all the extra money his parents had to pay for the flight and the school, they hadn't had enough to pay for a vacation trip this year. Viktor didn't mind that much, he'd been happy staying in Tula, skating and spending time with his mother before he was off to the training center. 

After dinner there was some time alotted for them in the common room, but after half an hour Viktor became tired and wanted to crawl into his bed. He was asleep fast, his thoughts occupied with when he would get on that ice rink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2000-ish was a time when terror attacks on the subways and public places were not an unheard of occurrence in Russia, with Chechnya being one of the most important reasons – and while most of the terror attacks took place in Chechnya, Moscow was hit hard multiple times. Those who were old enough at the time might recall the Hostage Situation in a Moscow Theatre in October 2002 with over 150 dead. I lived in Moscow myself 2003/2004, during my stay there were several terrorist attacks on subway lines.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viktor is getting used to his life at the school.

The next morning Viktor was woken by Kiril. „Hey, get up! It's almost time for breakfast!“

Viktor blinked up at his roommate, then looked for his clock. It showed the time as 6:48. When was breakfast? Oh, right, at 7. Damn. He had forgotten to set the alarm. 

When Kiril saw that he was awake, he vanished from Viktor's view. Viktor pulled himself up, hastily grabbing clothes from the wardrobe and slipping into them. He was still half asleep, but he followed Kiril out to the lunchroom when the other boy stepped out of their room.

Viktor really woke up during breakfast. There were several choices for breakfast, making it quite luxurious in Viktor's eyes. The other boys were tired and mostly silent as well, but when they were done and had brought their plates and bowls to the collecting station, Miss Korlova came over.

„Viktor, I'll introduce you to your coach, she will be here soon. The rest of you boys, shoo, you have your schedules.“

Viktor waited at his seat, until a few minutes later a woman in der fifties stepped into the lunchroom. She came over to Miss Korlova and Viktor right away. 

„Hello, you must be Viktor Sergejevich Nikiforov, right? I'm Maria Ivanovna Jelkina, your coach.“  
Viktor go up and shook her hand politely. She was old, but she still had the grace of a dancer in her every movement. 

„So, I'll be off, you have his schedule, Maria?“ When his coach nodded, Miss Korlova stood up and went about her way. Miss Jelkina told Viktor to sit back down, and took the seat opposite him for herself.

„Viktor. I got some of your information from your previous coach, but I'd like you to tell me about what you can do yourself first. When did you start skating?“  
„When I was five. My mother took me, and I liked it a lot. She signed me up to a course when I started school.“  
„And when did your personal lessons start?“  
„When I was ten. I had group courses before, but I've been training with coach Bashkina for two years.“  
„Well, that sounds good. I've got your schedule here, it might change if we see that some areas need more training than others.“  
She pulled a leaf from a folder she had brought with her and set it so that Viktor could read it. 

„This is the schedule for your school days, since school starts the day after tomorrow. I have some training time for you until then, but a full schedule isn't necessary for two days. So, on weekdays you will have a first training session every morning at 7:45 for two hours, your school lessons start at 10:15, the lessons are in there as well. The second training is from 16:00 to 18:00, after dinner there are theoretical lessons on tuesdays and thursdays. One hour from 20:00 to 21:00. Then it's off to bed for you. Monday, wednesday and friday your morning lesson is at the rink, the afternoon lesson is in the studio. Tuesday and thursday the evening lessons are at the rink, the morning lessons are in the gym, strength training. On the weekends you have the rink on saturdays from 10:00 to 12:00, and on sundays there are open rinks for the age groups, but no individual training sessions. For your age group that will be from 14:00 to 16:00. There will always be a coach there, but not always me.“

Viktor nodded along, studying the schedule. Every day on the ice! That sounded awesome. The lesson plan for school looked normal, there were no P.E.-classes, of course, but otherwise it looked just like his school schedule from home. Well, there were English classes now. He hadn't had those, but he would have gotten them this year if he had stayed home as well. 

„So, today we have the rink at 9:00, I'll show you around a bit before that, set up your locker, those kind of things.“  
Viktor nodded again.   
„Then, you go upstairs and get ready, brush your teeth and get your training clothes and skates. I'll wait for you here.“

Viktor smiled and nodded, then took the schedule and dashed up to his room. Kiril was nowhere to be seen, Viktor put the schedule into his wardrobe and got ready. Just a few minutes later he was back in the lunchroom, his backpack filled with a set of training clothes and his skates. 

„Wonderful, let's go!“, said Miss Jelkina, and off they were to the ice stadium.   
She showed him the rink they would use for now, it was a smaller one, not olympic measure, but then, he'd not compete on the big rinks for a few years, if ever. The youth events he had won at home had been wherever anyone would do them. 

The studio was bigger than the one he had trained in at home, with several ballet barres at the side, and when Viktor looked inside, two girls stretching in front of the mirror. The floor was different as well, it was hardwood, in the studio at home there had been some kind of plastic floor. When he passed one of the other doors, something caught his eye. 

He stopped, and looked closer. Yes, that was Nikolai Archunov, the current russian champion! He was training here as well!  
His moves were so graceful, powerful but controlled. Viktor forgot about Miss Jelkina for a minute, until she put a hand around his shoulder and spoke in his ear.  
„Would you like to become just as good as him?“  
„Yes, Miss Jelkina.“, Viktor answered. Viktor wanted to be the russian champion, and start at the Olympics, and win the Grand Prix Finale. That's what he had come here for, to become better, to become the best!

„Well, then we will work on that. First step: You call me Maria. Second step: We get to the rink now and you show me what you can do, right?“  
Viktor nodded enthusiastically. Finally he would get onto the ice!

When he stepped out of the locker room with his training garb on, and the skates on his feet, the rink was not yet cleared. But the group that had trained there before him was doing a last round, then they stepped off the ice. A caretaker drove the ice resurfacer over the rink, and thouugh that took a few minutes extra, it was wonderful to step out onto the completely fresh ice. Maria also had her skates on, and followed Viktor onto the ice. 

„So, show me a few moves.“ She made a gesture to Viktor, who started to skate, gaining some speed, then showed a few spins, turns, and the jumps he knew. The jumps were not much to brag about yet, he was glad he could land them all now, with just the one turn. It amazed him every time when he saw how international champions could turn up to four times in a jump. It seemed a little impossible, but he knew it was hard training. He was here to learn!

He stopped when he had shown most of the different moves he knew and looked up to Maria. She smiled at himme and clapped. „That is quite a good repertoire for someone your age! And you stood on all the jumps, that's very good.“

Note: I have little knowledge of the russian school system and how much time is alotted to which subjects, and at which level. I have some vague recollections of one russian classmate from 13 years ago, but seriously, that's not exactly stellar. So bear with me if this is rubbish. I also have never seen a sport school from the inside, but know about their concepts theoretically and have looked up some information about the way it works. 

After the first week, Viktor was exhausted. He still needed a lot of help with getting around, he had gotten lost the one time he’d tried to find his classroom on his own, and the teacher had been pretty angry when he arrived late for the lesson. But every day he got more used to the place, and his training was really awesome. He had so much time on the ice, and the ballet lessons were pretty impressive, and Maria had so much to time just for him, to tell him how he could improve. 

Just yesterday, she had said that since Viktor’s jumps were stable, they should start training double jumps. First, he’d have some studio training for that, but soon, he’d get to try it on the ice as well. He was so excited about it! 

Kiril was pretty nice, as well. They got along just fine in the room, and they shared some practice time as well. Kiril already practiced the double salchow, though he still had trouble getting it clean, he tended to over-rotate a little bit. 

But seeing that Kiril managed something Viktor couldn’t yet do egged him on, making him even more eager to improve. Kiril had a lot of figure skating magazines, and Viktor had borrowed some of them, reading interviews with pro skaters and coaches, he hadn’t even known there was so much out there. They probably just didn’t sell magazines like that in Tula, and they seemed to be very expensive, which would give another explanation as to why Viktor never had had any. He was really grateful that Kiril let him borrow these, they were just so fascinating.

His classmates were all over the place, since the sports school took in people from nearly any sport. There were a lot of ice hockey players among the boys, and several figure skating girls, and speed skaters of both sexes. But also track and field athletes, even a very chubby-looking boy who did shot-put. Kiril was in his class, the only other boy who did figure skating. Maybe half the class had already been here the previous year, but a lot of the others had just joined the school this year, like Viktor. Some girl had started bragging about her winning some local championship at her hometown, but she’d been shut up quickly, since nearly everyone in the class had a string of local wins to their name already. One boy who really fascinated Viktor was a speed skater from Blagoveshchensk – he looked more Chinese than Russian, even though his name was Igor Mjedin. 

They all had different training venues, so besides their school breaks, it wasn’t easy to actually spend time with the others. And most evenings, Viktor had been too tired to drag himself to the common room, preferring the silence of his room and a magazine or a book. But he also wanted to make a few friends, he didn’t want to be a loner. 

But everything had to wait for tomorrow. He was tired and needed sleep. 

The next day, he got a letter from his mother in the mail. She was telling him about grandma, who had gotten over a short illness, and the neighbor’s kids, who had asked where Viktor had gone to. Everyone was so proud of him for getting into the sport school, training to be a Russian representative at the big championships, maybe even the Olympics. Viktor vowed to write a reply that evening, but before that, he had practice. No school, since it was Saturday. 

Maria met him in front of the studio, and after warming up, they worked on pirouettes, so Viktor would learn to turn faster, as he would need for the multiple jumps. After the lesson, he could do a passable double pirouette. It was still a long way to go until he would be done with all the jumps, but he felt all right with the progress. 

On the ice that day Maria drilled him in basics. She said his turns needed to be cleaner, he needed the perfect control over his skates to become better. She had still had to do compulsory figures, and from everything he heard, Viktor was very glad that that chapter of ice-skating history had been closed around the time he was born. It seemed awfully dull, being judged on three figures you had to do perfectly. Turns were important, but not that important. But good turns made good step sequences, so compulsory figures training it was for him. 

So the training continued, with Viktor on the ice every day, as he settled into the routine of the school.

Viktor got a letter from his mother every week. She told him little anecdotes from his parents’ life, from the neighbors’, or the cashier lady from Kopjeka across the street. Once, she sent a chocolate along with her letter, but in his reply, Viktor told her how Maria reminded him of the food regimen and his mother apologized. Viktor sent her letters in return, telling of his progress. He had started with the double jumps now, first the salchow, and the toe-loop right after he managed to get the salchow mostly right. 

Some of the older skaters had been gone for a weekend now and then, the youth season had started. Next year, Viktor would be eligible for the junior competitions, but until then, he’d only participate in a school championship, concentrating on getting his technical repertoire ready for next year, and hopefully the international junior competitions. So, he worked on jumps, and spins, and steps. Maria praised his spins a lot, but had small corrections to everything. One of the things his former coach had been reluctant about was a Biellmann spin – but even if most men weren’t flexible enough to do it in adult competition, most juniors knew it, so Viktor also started practicing that. 

The theoretical lessons twice a week were something he’d never had before. They covered a lot of topics, from rules in competitions, to diet and nutrition counseling, even some sport medicine. The coaches rotated those courses, some were held by outsiders, doctors or other professionals. One of the more impressive lectures was when a Ballerina from the Bolshoi came – Lilia Baranovskaya, who was married to coach Yakov Feltsman. She talked of proper posture and expression in dancing. The theoretical lessons were with all the figure skaters at once, so Viktor got to meet all the youths who trained at the school. Some of the older ones he had seen on TV already, on the rare occasions that junior competitions on the national level had been broadcasted. Two of the oldest girls had won junior grand prix events this season, maybe one or both of them would proceed to the junior grand prix finale. Still, they listened humbly when the coaches talked. Viktor liked them, they didn’t brag. He vowed not to brag if he won. Everybody knew who was good and who won, so bragging was stupid, anyways. 

School was the most boring part. One of the other boys had made fun of Viktor because his hair was a little longer, and a lot of the class had laughed at him. He’d always worn his hair that way, his grandma hat always liked the cut. Viktor didn’t know what should be wrong about it. The teachers were… normal, they criticized his handwriting and scolded him if he didn’t know the plant names he should have learned for biology class. English was hard, some letters were the same but different, and the pronounciation made no sense at all. But he knew he should learn it, English was important if you traveled internationally, and he wanted to be in international competitions someday, after all. 

The open Sunday rink was the most funny time of the week. It was a little dangerous, because there were more people on the ice than in the individual lessons, where only a handful of skaters shared a rink. But you got to see a lot more different skating styles, and you could even fool around a little bit. Sometimes they would have music going, modern pop music, not the ballet pieces that most of the younger skaters were supposed to use for their choreographies. Viktor loved it, a lot. 

Time flew by, and the weather got worse as October passed, and the first snow came in November. In January, from new year’s till Christmas, Viktor would go home to his parents in Tula, for the first time in months. He missed his mother, he had heard so little from his father, and he was looking forward to some home-cooked meals. While the food wasn’t necessarily bad, it got a little one-sided, with everyone adhering to certain dietary needs. 

He had managed to learn all the double jumps, and he wanted to show them to his parents. He still had problems with over-rotation sometimes, but never with under-rotating, and Maria had praised him a lot. He could also do a Bielmann spin now, and all his components had grown so much better. He and Kiril got along well, Kiril was a good sport about Viktor surpassing him with the jumps, he still couldn’t do the doubles quite as well. 

Maria brought him to the station, and gave him a letter for his parents. He was curious about what would be in there… but he guessed he could ask his mother after she had read it. She had always asked his opinion on things that concerned him, if it was important, she’d tell him. 

The train ride was long, and Viktor had to change trains in Moscow. There, he always kept his hand on his luggage, he didn’t want to be mugged in the crowds. He was glad once he found his train, sitting down in his seat, preparing to sleep a bit, since it would be several more hours until he arrived in Tula. He fell asleep as soon as the train left the station, waking up some time later, as they were nearing Tula.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kopjeka is a russian supermarket chain. Do they still exist? They had a lot of really lousy food XD. The chocolate was fine, though!

**Author's Note:**

> Note: this is written from a perspective of the main storyline taking place ~2016/2017, therefor making this 12-year-old Viktor come to St Petersburg in 2002.


End file.
